


Look Back at Me.

by starrjiarr



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, M/M, Mentions of burgie, One Shot Collection, Queer Themes, Some of the side characters suck, They are gay, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Yearning, nothing happens no worries I wouldn’t do that, u think I would make snafu straight? I’m not a monster
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:00:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29976357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrjiarr/pseuds/starrjiarr
Summary: Merriell often is stuck in his own head but there are few special moments when knows everything in Eugenes head. Those times he holds onto.
Relationships: Merriell "Snafu" Shelton & Eugene Sledge, Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge
Kudos: 3





	1. Sit In It

**Author's Note:**

> hello, home of the sexuals, yes I wrote another fic, I have access to a keyboard and I’m making it everyone else’s problem, these r ig one shots and a collection of ideas I had

His eyes almost looked sunken in due to the restless nights. The piercing blue green doing nothing to make him look more awake, it only made him seem more alert. I often thought of Snafus' ability to stay up and keep his monsters contained. He could stay awake night after night and not lose grip of his emotions. Meanwhile I sat in silence to wallow in the sadness for a bit, the sadness of goodbyes I never got and the uncertainty of my life now. 

But Snafu didn’t seem to sit in the sadness, he sat in something else I couldn’t decipher. When ours would meet in these moments of sitting in our emotions he only ever gives me two looks. A smirk or a look as if he knows how I think and I know how he thinks. I wonder if he realizes I don’t.


	2. Bad Batch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw mention of sexual assault/ harassment
> 
> Also I don’t say any of the period typical slurs in this cuz no

Sledge is always within an arms reach of me. If he’s not next to me, he’s behind me, staggering, thinking, pouting even. If he’s in front of me he’s fuming, practically sprinting, avoiding my gaze. If he’s next to me he’s fine, he walks with my pace, we share a smoke. 

Today he walks ahead of me. Once again angry for a comment I made or an action I indulged in. I’m not sure. Today I don’t know what made him upset with me. Normally I know exactly what buttons I pushed and revall in his reactions, but today I don’t know what I did to make him so angry. It’s eating away at me. I have that feeling on my skin. That unsettling feeling. I want to know what I did, I want to make it better. I want the itching on my skin to stop. I want the tension in my back to disappear but I don’t know how. I don’t know what I did or said. I tried to catch up to him, take longer strides, walk shoulder to shoulder, he didn’t even glance at me. 

I offered him a smoke, he lifted his head and looked forward. He didn’t acknowledge me at all. Ouch.

“You okay, sledgehammer?” I tried to ask as if it was nothing, as if I didn’t know he was mad. He would burst eventually. But it wasn’t now. He continued facing forward. I let myself lag behind to my starting pace. I didn’t want to feel his anger right now. He’ll tell me when he’s ready but for right now I can’t bear the anger. Sledge does that to me at times. He’ll be disappointed, upset or even disgusted with me and I can’t stand it. Sometimes it’s funny. Okay, most of the time it’s funny. But the other times sting. The feel like blades on my skin. Exactly how I felt walking the path with him ahead. I hate the feeling. I hate that I hate the feeling. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t have gotten attached but I did. I care and I got attached. I walked behind him, smoking and contemplating how to avoid my thoughts. How to avoid the feeling on my skin. All that I could think of was Eugene and my mother, how I had the same feeling when she was upset with me. I didn’t want to think of her either. I didn’t want to think about either of them right now. 

“Hey, Snafu!” A boots annoying accent pulled me from my troubles, I don’t know or care about where this kid is from but dear god his peoples accent is nails on a chalkboard. I turned back to see him and his gaggle of fresh faced white boys, all laughing not having seen the Atrocities we have. Fuckin’ babies. 

“The fuck you want, boy?” I answered in my most annoyed tone. Who does this kid even think he is? I’m not his friend and I’m not trying to be.

“Heard there’s some pretty girls in these parts, that true?” He sneered with his awful accent. What the fuck was he talking about. The only girls we saw were nurses and besides that the locals of Okinawa. I looked over my shoulder again scoffing. 

“Burgie, you hear that? The recruiters must be gettin’ real desperate back home. Lyin’ to the new guys ‘bout some dames.” I chuckled, what idiots. Burgie responded with some laughter of his own. I couldn’t see Eugene face though. Burgie turned to look at the new guys, “Who told you there were girls here?” He’s always entertaining those new guys. Why can’t he just tell them to fuck off or shut up. I’m all for fucking with the new boots but right now, my comment to Burgie was all I could muster. 

“Some of the older guys at camp. Sayin’ there’s some real cute locals around these parts, ready for the taking.” He cackled and his buddies joined it. It made my skin hot. I turned and showed my disgust on my face. They were fucking perves. “Ready for the taking” rang in my ears. I had and inkling of what they meant but I wasn’t sure. Eugen must have thought the same thing because he asked for clarification before I could.

“What you boys mean, ‘ready for the taking?’” Sledge looked back, eyes squinted from both the sun and to focus on the group. I watched his expression. I wanted to see if I could read him like I thought I could. 

A blonde boy pipped up, having gotten some courage from his shitty friends, “Let’s just say, we heard the girls don’t say ‘no’ to much here.” They laughed again like they were in on one of the funniest jokes on the island. I turned back watching them pat each other on the back. I stopped in my tracks and I could hear Eugene do the same. We didn’t play this bullshit. We heard about what some other boys in other companies did. Eugen threw up at the tails. I couldn’t sleep I was so angry. We stood on the dirt trail. Letting the boys walk closer until they noticed our demeanor. They stopped their jokes.

“Why would they say ‘no?’” I asked. I stared down the main offender a black haired boy with green eyes. He looked no older than 20. 20 and already a shit person, I thought. 

“What’d you mean?” He was sheepish now. Good.

“They don’t speak no fuckin’ English, prick. Why would they be sayin’ ‘no?’” I was more stern with this sentence but the motherfucker must have had rocks inside his head instead of brains because he starts to chuckle nervously. He completely misread what I said. 

“I guess you’re right.” He chuckles.

Eugene steps closer to my shoulder, the incline we’re standing on only making him lean closer. 

“He’s askin’ what are you gunna do to these girls that would make ‘em say ‘no.’” Eugen voice was also stern but his was low. I knew exactly what his tone meant.

The black haired boy began to stand cocky like he could challenge us. “Nothin’ they don’t deserve.” He had one had on his hip. Like he was hot shit. My first thought was pull out my rifle and shoot his dick. My body began to jolt forward but Eugene pressed his hand to my chest, restraining me. He stepped in front of me. 

“That’s what you think? Will you be thinkin’ that you deserve it when you get blown to peace’s by a gernade? Or how about when one of those girls slits your throat ‘cuz you’re to much of a fuckin’ idiot to see the knife in her hand? Or how about when I fall asleep one night while this wild fuckers on watch,” he points his thumb at my chest, “and everyone wakes up the next mornin’ too see you with a bullet in ur head? Would you have deserved it, then?” The shock on the kids face was priceless. Eugene was never mean, never harsh unless he realized he had to be. If we got into screaming matches he always forgave me when I came back with my tail between my legs. When a new guy or anyone in the company was on the verge of a mealtdown, Eugene tried to be sympathetic. But right now, he was mean. And he had every right to be. We were here to kill people who where hand in hand with Nazis, not terrorize girls and civilians. But that’s what some guys don’t get. Because they do the same stuff back home, just here the law doesn’t come after you. 

Eugene spoke again, “if you touch any girl in this part of the world or even look at anyone who might be a female, I’ll let this fucker cut your balls off and shove ‘em down your throat, you hear me?” Burgie came walking down behind us, telling us to break it up and to fall back into formation. The kid looked like he was gunna piss himself. I agreed with everything Sledge said but I still wish I got a word in or even showed the kid my KA-BAR. Not now I guess.

I was still behind Sledge as we walked, the boots further down the pack, so they couldn’t hear us unless we wanted them to, Sledge spoke to me the first time that day, “Sorry I stopped you. I just knew that what you were gunna do was ten times worse than what I said, so I wanted to save you the court marshal.” He gave a half smile, he was mostly joking but we both knew he knew how I felt about those kinda “jokes.”  
“Wish you had let me at ‘em. Boys like them need to learn real fear. Sons a’ bitches prolly don’t even realize how fuckin’ nasty they are.” I took another drag from my cigarette. 

Eugene turned back to the front, “They’ll get scared, believe that.”

I huffed out some smoke, “Oh, I know they’ll be scared. They’ll be dead ‘fore the weeks over.” Eugene shoulders slumped at that comment.

I was right. 

The black haired kid died from a tank and blondie died because of a grenade, another one got shot.

As we watched them get taken down I saw Eugenes horror, he didn’t carry a lot of sympathy for them since we discovered their morals but seeing death scars either way, no matter who it is, I didn’t know how to soften that blow, I never do, all I could say was, “At least some girls are safe now.” I knew that wasn’t very true, sure no Okinawan girls had to worry about three boots but what about all the other ones, and all the Old Breeds? I threw up later that night because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

A few weeks later, new boots replaced the old ones and they weren’t too bright either. Why do boots never shut up? They had been messing around with each other all day, got to the point where one rang out loud “Look we got a queer over here!” It froze me. I stood their knee deep in a fresh foxhole, trying not to show my horror or anxiety. I looked as Eugene glared at the boots with the thinnist vile of concern, but not for them. For something else entirely. As I saw him begin to turn his attention back to the hole, I began digging again. I tried to blend back into the scenery. Marines either ignoring or laughing off the comment, I didn’t want to show my fear. Eugene could see it though, smell it even. He knew to well. I hated it. I hated that he could read me just as easily as I could read him. He began digging as well, when we were almost finished he whispered “Ignore them, just some assholes.” I looked at him with the same frantic look I had earlier. He avoided my gaze and dug.

Eugene and I sat in our foxholes that night, he wrote in his Bible as I tried to sleep. I was tired but also restless, the comment from earlier stuck to me like glue. I hated that I was so bothered by it. Of course I had heard it before, we all have. I’ve even had it thrown my way. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make you alert. A mention of it sets off all radars, all emergency signals in your head. Danger, danger, they’re finding you out. 

I opened my eyes and tried to stare at the stars as a releaver but all it did was make me think of bombs flying over head. Nothing eased me at the moment. Eugene must have read me because he was staring, I could feel it. 

“What sledgehammah’? Plan on drawin’ me a portrait?” I drawled, my voice quitter, just for him to hear.

He scoffed, “Like I’d waste good paper and pencil on you.” He went back to writing in his bible.

I looked down to examine him now. “I know I’m a real lookah’, you should just get a camera.” The sentence fell from my mouth but it still made me on edge, it made me double guess myself, even though it was just a casual remark. What if that was too much, what if he puts two and two together, your reaction from earlier now this, it was just a joke but what if that’s your tell, what if- 

I wanted my head to shut up.

Eugene let of a breath of laughter again. His eyes flickered up to me for just a split second but I caught his gaze. We locked eyes and his smile slowly faded. Not into a frown or a look of defiance, but a look of fondness. This happened sometimes, we’d be alone in our foxholes and catch each other’s eyes. Locked and loaded with thousands of thoughts and feelings but we never said one. Tonight, Eugene was thinking about the same thing I was. The comment form the boots from earlier. He knew that I knew that he knew it bothered me. He got up and crawled to sit next to me. This didn’t happen when we locked eyes. It made me excited but also nervous. This was new territory. I hated that. But I knew I should enjoy it with what little time we had to do this. We still looked at each other’s eyes. Now a new thought was added to my gaze, what the fuck Sledge, you know I don’t do this, I’m not ready for this-

He thumbed at his Bible and scanned the pages. “We’re not really different, are we?” He asked simply.

I gave him a suspicious look, “Why you say that?” I pulled out my pack of cigarettes from my pants pocket, fuck, I need a smoke for this.

“We think the same, I guess. We have the same opinions on things.” 

I scoffed, “O yeah, like you don’t judge me every two seconds, rich boy.” I held a cigarette between my lips as I spoke, beginning to light it. 

He smiled, “No, I don’t mean in actions, or maybe even personalities. I mean in thoughts, ideas….opinions.” He repeated opinions. 

“You mean morals?” 

“Yeah, morals.” 

“Like what?” I didn’t want to think about how similar we were in that regard, I’d get more attached if I thought about it on my own. 

“Like those boots a few weeks back, saying those gross things about the local girls, or today…” he didn’t finish. He’s trying to talk about something, something particular. I know he is. Im gunna make him say it.

“What’d’ya mean today?” I huffed out a plume of smoke. I shouldn’t have been smoking at night like this but, I was already taking a risk by talking about this anyways, so who cares.

“When those boots were pickin’ on each other.” He paused to look at me, “and called each other queers.”

Something about him looking at me hurt. 

“I didn’t comment on that, Sledge.” 

“You didn’t have to.”

Fuck. Fuck. Shut up. What the fuck. I can’t do this.

“What’s that mean?” I became defensive.

“I saw your face. You saw mine. We don’t talk like that. We don’t think like that.” 

I was still tense. “I guess we don’t.” 

We sat in a beat of silence. I felt like I was going to explode. I only moved the one hand that held my cigarette. Not even venturing to breath to hard and ruin the crafted atmosphere around us. We were tiptoeing on a line here that I desperately didn’t want to step over. My other hand was still at my side, palm to the dirt. Suddenly I felt Sledges arm move against mine, and I felt a clammy hand wrap around my own. I tensed up even more. 

Fuck no. Fuck yes. Fuck no. Fuck yes. 

I couldn’t tell if this was stupid or the best thing to happen to me. And I didn’t try to find out. I just sat there. Hand in hand with Eugene. Smoking as he stared at the stars. Any other setting and I would have found this perfect. But right now? Five feet from some questionable men? My heart was beating so hard it hurt in my chest. 

We fell asleep like that, hand in hand. My head rested on his shoulder, his head on mine. We woke up and only exchanged sleepy smiles. No words. It was nice. But when the boots started being loud again we suddenly went back to our jaded marine attitudes.

As we trekked more through the jungle Eugene walked by me. His hand at times gently grazing my own, so small no one would think twice about it. A silent gesture. It made me more attached and i didn’t hate it this time. 


	3. Coral Cove of Catastrophe

It was cold.

Fuck, it was cold. 

We sat beneath a c shaped peace of coral, ridged and cracked but the only thing we had to shelter us from the ran. We had spent all day running, running from the enemy, running from some fuck faces on our side who tried to bomb us. Just running. Night finally fell and the ran came with it. Hard and harsh, stepping out from under the coral shelter for even a minute would render you soaked. My boots were hit hard by the rain but I could see Eugene trying hard to press himself further into the c. The rain still spalshing at him. I wanted the rain to stop. 

Hamm and Peck were also under the coral with us, trying to avoid the rain, Hamm seemed fine but Pecks back was soaked. It would have made me laugh any other night but now now. Tonight I was over it. How do we almost get bombed by our own people? How? On top of that, I could feel the blood in my boots. My socks had holes in them and the sole of my left boot was falling off. I could feel the dried blood in my shoe mingle with the rain water. It made me paranoid. Shit, would I get an infection? How close is the next camp, maybe they have socks? Shit, I’m gunna get sick. They’re’ll be puss and blood and they’ll say they’ll have to take my foot. Shit, they can’t take my foot. What if I get a fever from this? Fuck my ankle stings, when did my sock fall down in my shoe? Maybe someone can spare a bandage or I can just take it from one of the new guys-

“Snaf.” I almost couldn’t hear him over the rain. It was Eugene. He was a bit closer now but still crouched down. He was staring at me with furrowed brows. He wasn’t irritated but he was bothered by something.

“What?” I looked back at the rain. I could see Burgie and Mac on the opposite end of the path, sheltered by their own roof of coral, of course they got the more spacious one, pricks. 

“I called your name three damn times, you didn’t hear me?” He seemed annoyed or concerned. I wasnt paying him much mind, I was still thinking about my foot. 

“Can’t hear you over all this fuckin’ rain!” I rose my voice a bit at the end. I was genuinely pissed. At who, I’m not sure but I was. I was pissed at myself a bit. I should have tapped up my boots awhile back, why the fuck didn’t you do that? You knew these boots seemed off and you didn’t do shit. Cros Tête. How have you even managed to make it this long? Wait until you get an infection, just wait and see-

I felt Eugene settle besides me, he presses our shoulders together, even though we both had our ponchos on it was nice. His knees were to his chest, I could see his pale hands out of the corner of my eye. They rested on his knees but I could see as he moved his hand down to my knee. He was pushing my legs trying to get me to mimic his position.

“C’mon. Lift your legs up, can’t have you frettin’ over an infected foot.” His mouth twitched up at the end. I willingly pressed my knees to my chest. I watched him and gave him a small smirk.

“How’d you know?” He read me like a book. He knew what I was thinking just like how I knew what he was thinking. He could hear all my thoughts at the same time I could, maybe even before me. He looked down and his smile grew.

“I’ve known you ‘fore today Snaf.” He squeezed around himself tighter fighting the cold, he then scootted closer to my shoulder, pressing himself as close as possible without sitting in my lap. I wouldn’t mind that. Shut up.

I gave him one quick glance before looking forward myself, past Macs annoying ass and Burgies coral cove. Out onto the gray dirt covered in ash and fog. I don’t know why I felt the need to say this to Eugene but I just did it. 

“Merriell.” I tried to make my voice as soft as possible. Maybe he wouldn’t hear it and the pounding in my chest would lessen. 

He titled his head, “What?” He showed me his ear, signaling for me to repeat what I whispered. I leaned as close as I could without my lips on his lobe. I was tempted but I stopped myself.

“Merriell. M’ names Merriell.” I leaned back before anyone could see how close we were. My chest felt tight. My heart wouldn’t stop stomping against my chest.

He stared at me. He went from my eyes, to my nose. My lips. I reflected his gaze. Looking from his lips, to his nose, to his eyes. When we locked each others eyes he smiled again.

“Merriell…” He nodded his head. “What kinda fuckin’ name is that?” He began to laugh. I did too. 

“Watch ya’ mouth, sledgehammah,” I said in between laughs. “Ya’ name ain’t the prettiest neither.” I looked to my shoes. The toes were soaked in water, I tried to pull them in. Eugene watched my movements and slung the ends of his poncho over my feet. I looked up at him. He held his grin and then turned to look forward. I followed.


	4. Me, the Moon and Eugene

The blood on my boots made me feel sick. I’m used to the carnage, the horrors of the game we’re all in. Young men- no, young boys sent to fight old men’s wars. I accepted I was a pawn long ago but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, that doesn’t mean I’m not angry.

I can’t sleep tonight. I always had trouble back home sleeping but ever since I was shipped out to hell I’ve slept whenever I could but tonight’s another one where me and the moon sit in silence together. 

We came to this camp about a week ago and we still don’t have any orders yet, thank god. The only issue is now I’m not sleeping the same and Eugene has noticed. He tries to ask me how I am, tells me to ask the doctor for sleeping medicine, I’m not doing any of that shit. But I like that he frets over me if I’m honest. 

I’ve sat myself tonight next to the beach, far enough away from the shore where I’m not in danger of getting wet from the rising tides but close enough that I still will have to shake sand off shoes and pants. I’m trying to think of anything. Anything to stop my mind from thinking about what it wants to think about. 

I wonder if mom hates me. We haven’t sent her any letters, not that she could read them. My sister probably forgot about me. Uncle Asas probably dead by now, he only had a month or two left. Eugene probably can’t stand you anymore. He’s realizin’ what you are. Trash. 

I heard the crunch and shift of sand under boots and my neck snapped back in the direction of it. It was Eugene. Speak of the devil. He gave me a small genuine smile. 

“What ya doin’ out here? Shouldn’t you be sleepin’?” He plopped down next to me and packed his pipe. 

“Shouldn’t I be askin’ you the same thing?” I looked out at the water. I felt him shrug, heard the click of his lighter and the soft beat of the waves. 

“I saw you weren’t in your bunk, came lookin’ for ya, I guess.” He seemed almost embarrassed by his statement. Like he didn’t want me realizing he cared. But it was too late. I turned and gave him a canigh smirk.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me Sledge, go on back to bed.” 

He shook his head as he took a drag off his pipe, “Nah, I go when you go.” He said the words still holding his pipe between his teeth. 

What. 

“Why?” I wanted him to be honest. I wanted to beg him to be honest. Not much honesty about what’s in peoples head during these times but I always wanted to know what Eugene thought. Always. I didn’t show it in how I asked the word but I showed my confusion, why would he wait until I left? Maybe he didn’t trust me not to do something reckless, maybe he didn’t want me getting in any trouble, maybe-

“I suppose I enjoy yer company, Mister Shelton.” He looked to the water. I let out a breathy chuckle. 

“No ones’ eva’ called me that.” I said the truth as low as possible, hoping the waves muffled my confession.

I could feel his eyes on my face. “Really? Ever?” It was his turn to be confused. 

I shook my head. “Nope, not eva’.” I noticed my own accent got thicker. I never knew I had one until I went to the marines, then as soon as I joined boot camp all the northern boys couldn’t get over the way I pronounced things, I tried to mask it a bit, I naturally picked up on the way the other, at times more educated boys spoke. I tried to blend in. But my accent was always there and now, it was heavy on my tongue. Eugene brought that out in me, his Alabama accent would become harsher, less posed and gentlemen like. Mine would become looser and my words would sway. 

“Rich boy like you,” I started a sentence before I even realized I did, “must get called that all the time. Mista’ Sledge.” I let out another chuckle. “Mista’ Sledgehamma’...” 

“I might.” He adjusted his position, he was trying to be modest. 

We let the silence cocoon us for a while. Just the sound of the wind and water as our music and the light of the moon as our blanket. Nothing more needed. 

Eugene's voice married to the sound so well I almost didn’t respond when he called my name. Wait, he said my name.

“Merriell.” He said it again. I turned my head slowly. I almost didn’t believe it was true. No one had called me that since I joined the marines. I was a different man of a different name, I had become Snafu. Eugene summoned Merriell. He sat in Snafus' place. 

“Yes. Eugene.” I added his name. I summoned Eugene. 

He fidgeted with the pipe in his fingers as he stared in my eyes. He seemed lost in them, like he saw all of Merriell, all his bad, ugly and maybe beauty, if he had any. I didn’t realize until his eyes were so close I could see every strand of hazel that he had been leaning in. I stayed put. Then he closed his eyes. And his lips met mine. I finally closed mine. He kissed me in a way I had never been kissed, like he could break me in any second, like I had hollow bones. I kissed him back, trying to be as sweet as possible, I tried to return the statement. I cupped his cheek with one hand. I lost myself purposefully. After a moment we separated. He leaned his forehead against mine. I kept my eyes shut. Still letting myself live in the moment. We stayed that way for awhile. Forehead to forehead, Eugene watching me as I made a home for myself there. 

I felt the soft poke of a finger on my shoulder and cracked my eyes open to look at him. 

His voice was so quiet, like a secret, only I could know.   
“You have to sleep, fer real.” He looked worried.

I looked at the sand and nodded, moving both our heads. I was silent. The exhaustion had hit me like a ton of bricks. Suddenly we slowly shuffled up and disconnected ourselves. We dusted off the sand and looked at the dark ocean as a goodnight. I stole a gaze of the moon. Eugene held my body as tight as he could. His hand on my waistline, the other on my shoulder, a side hug almost. Like he was trying to carry me to bed. I looked at him and smiled. He smiled back and I swore he blushed. When we got closer to camp he released me. I hated the absence of his warmth but I knew he had to. We nodded to the guy on patrol and went back to our bunks. Eugene was on the left side across from me. He watched me lay down and whispered through the tent, “Try to actually sleep.”

I cracked a true smile. “Okay, Eugene.” I unnunicatated his name perfectly, as a point. I threw my arm over my eyes and I fell into a sleep painted with dreams of Eugene, me and the moon.


End file.
